


To Every Boy I’ve Ever Loved

by aqonoluna



Series: PegoRyuGoro [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Original Character(s), Physical Therapy, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Rehabilitation, Song Lyrics, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqonoluna/pseuds/aqonoluna
Summary: Just outside the fifth windowpane from the left of where Ryuji sat, next to a large fountain that wasn’t working right now, two people were running to embrace one another, their arms wide open until they closed in a hug.It was very moviesque.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: PegoRyuGoro [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136864
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

> _To every [boy] I ever loved, I tried my best but it wasn’t enough_
> 
> _You know I was just growing up and what I was going through_
> 
> _To every [boy] who took my hand and listened to my wild plans_
> 
> _Hope by now you understand how much I learned from you_
> 
> _I wish I knew where you are today_

From the lunchroom of the rehab facility he has checked himself into, Ryuji sat at a circular table, in a seat facing a window that let him look outside.

The windows were floor to ceiling with a small, black divide each glass panel, to show they were each different windows. Ryuji had sat here enough times to know that the wall he sat facing had fifteen of the big window panels. They were clearly cleaned daily, because every time he sat down to eat, they were essentially spotless, save for the occasional marks there were always gone the next day.

There wasn’t much else to look at when he ate, so he found entertainment and intrigue in what he could.

This wasn’t for nothing, he sometimes had to remind himself, especially when things got to be relentlessly boring and the only person that ever visited him was his mother — when she didn’t have to go into work, which was all the time, considering she was paying for him to do this.

This wasn’t for nothing.

About halfway through his fifteenth (or maybe it was his twenty-seventh, who knew anymore) lunchtime meal at the rehab facility, something new caught Ryuji’s attention: 

Just outside the fifth windowpane from the left of where he sat, next to a large fountain that wasn’t working right now, two people were running to embrace one another (most of the running was from one person, to be fair, but the other person was definitely at least moving in the direction of the one who was running), their arms wide open until they closed in a hug.

It was very moviesque.

Ryuji sighed softly and leaned back in his seat, idly picking at the bag of trail mix he had purchased and then dumped on his tray so he could eat around the chocolates. He didn’t like them, and he unfortunately didn’t have anyone here he could pawn them off on — because making friends was hard for a blond delinquent boy who couldn’t hold a conversation for more than a few minutes, except for in moments of hyperfixation, but he was sure one wanted to hear about his hyperfixafions—

The two people hugging pulled apart, but were still standing close enough that they could have held hands if they wanted to — and it definitely looked like that was what they wanted to do.

The first of the two people was facing the window, back to the water fountain. They had short, brown hair and a chiseled jawline, like they cared about how their face looked and tried to maintain their image. It was all he could make out of their face, though, and really their whole person, except that they stood with a certain… air of importance, but an air of importance that was starting to deflate a little bit.

The second of the two people was facing away from the window, back to Ryuji. He couldn’t see what the person’s hair looked like because he was wearing a hood — and from what he could tell, the hood was part of a grey hoodie. It wasn’t that strange, he supposed, except that the person was _also_ wearing a black blazer on top of that. No judgment, of course, because he would _not_ do that (especially not in a rehabilitation facility that had mental health patients — in a separate area, of course), but there was no way they weren’t hot in all of that. It was 25° outside.

The scene lost Ryuji’s interest for a few minutes as the two hugged. Instead of gawking at people through a window like some kind of a creep at a peep show or something, he went back to finishing up his trail mix before he ran out of time to eat it and he got in trouble. 

He really wished that wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but because he became distracted easily, he _always_ ran out of time when he ate, leading to the facility staff getting mad at him for not eating according to the meal plan that had been strategically laid out for—

_…I missed you, too, …?_

The short-haired person had begun talking, finally having pulled away from the hug and giving Ryuji something interesting to focus on again… and from what he could tell, it looked like he had said he missed the person wearing the hoodie. 

That wouldn’t surprise Ryuji that much, considering the way they had run into each other’s arms like they were on the set of a romcom and not at a rehab facility. 

It would mean the person in the hoodie had said something about missing the person with the short hair, which made for such an exciting and interesting fairytale story in Ryuji’s mind. 

Without much backstory, it was pretty much impossible to tell how long the two had been apart to miss one another _that much,_ to run into each other’s arms like that, but the chances of reuniting at a physical therapy/psychological therapy facility in Tokyo was, quite frankly, one in a… however many people were in the world at the moment. 

There was nothing more fairytale than that.

Ryuji was watching a literal fairytale story unfold and it was the best thing he’d seen the whole time he had been here. He was happy for whoever was reuniting amidst the falling cherry blossoms in front of a water fountain that didn’t work. Call him a hopeless romantic, but he was kind of a sucker for this sort of a thing.

 _Wow…_ (no, _What_ — the person with the short hair was asking a question, based off their facial expression, so that first word had to be “what” not “wow”) _are you doing here?_

It was a pretty simple question to lip-read.

(Ryuji had gotten pretty good at lip-reading over the years, especially in Mementos where everything was loud and distracting and difficult to hear. It was just another layer of understanding, kind of like having captions on on the television.)

A moment later, after what was likely a long-winded explanation from the person with the hoodie, the person with the short hair looked extremely sad, which resulted in the person in the hood dropping their head. 

They hugged again, but for much longer this time, and the embrace looked to be even more secure; even more protective.

Ryuji couldn’t help the pang of jealousy and sadness that dropped his heart to his stomach, tightening the acidic organ around it. It made him feel kind of sick, especially as the feeling of acid pushed back up into his throat, forcing tears that he was already trying to hold back, to actually begin falling down his cheeks. 

He would have wiped the boiling hot tears away if he wasn’t so transfixed on what he was watching.

Honest to whatever deities were out there, watching him and looking over him , he _was_ happy for whoever these two people were; he _was_ happy for their reunion.

He _was._

It was just that…

> _To every [boy] I’ve ever kissed_
> 
> _For all the nights I won’t forget_
> 
> _Lost in all our innocence, I’d do it all again_
> 
> _To every [boy] that gave me [his] heart_
> 
> _Wherever you go, wherever you are_
> 
> _I swear you’ll always be a part of who I am_

…it was hard to be completely happy for people who seemed so content with life when he was so… _unhappy;_ when he was so _depressed_ and _sad_ and felt so _alone._

This wasn’t for nothing, but he had given up a lot to do this. He had left behind everyone he knew and loved just so he could maybe, one day, live out his dream of becoming a runner that people would gather to see. Maybe that meant an Olympic runner, or maybe he would just do other races, but he wouldn’t be able to do _any_ of them if he didn’t do _this_ right now.

It would be worth all the loneliness.

_It had to be._

All of his friends; all of the _Phantom Thieves_ had been extremely supportive of this decision, which had to mean he was making the right one, even if he did feel lonely; even if he did miss the hell out of the best people he had ever known.

It was hard to be happy for people reuniting when all he wanted was to reunite with the people he had held close to his heart; when all he wanted was to see the people he had loved so much once again.

Just like the people beside the fountain.

What a fairytale reunion.

The people outside caught Ryuji’s interest once again, but he didn’t feel bad looking this time, because he finished all his food (so the facility workers could suck it for all he cared). He wiped away the tears with the side of his hand as he focused his attention back on them.

They weren’t hugging anymore, nor were they even still standing. They were sitting on the edge of the fountain, but Ryuji still couldn’t see the face of the man in the grey hoodie/black blazer combo because he had his hands between his thighs and his head was dipped. They looked like they were praying or something, the person with the short hair having their hand on the hoodie-wearing person’s upper back as they both sat there.

Ryuji couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but considering the person in the hoodie kept raising their hand and wiping their wrist over their eyes, it was clearly something heavy, deep, and, considering where they were, extremely personal.

The person in the hoodie kept fidgeting with their right ring finger, but from what Ryuji could tell, there wasn’t anything on it. It was possible, and most likely, they had been made to take off whatever ring they had on because they were a patient here and jewelry was prohibited while admitted, and the emptiness was strange to them — but it was also possible it was just some self-soothing technique they had developed when things got heavy.

Or perhaps both.

“Sakamoto Ryuji?” 

The gentle voice of a woman whom Ryuji recognized caught his attention, pulling him from his trance. She stood beside his seat, hand on the back of it, standing at a solid twenty-three centimeters shorter than him when he was standing. 

When Ryuji looked away from the window and gave her his full attention, she smiled softly and continued. 

“Are you ready for your afternoon therapy session, Sakamoto-kun? I don’t mean to hurry you, but we need to start a little sooner today because your tutor will be here a little earlier than usual.”

“I still have fifteen minutes left in my lunch time.”

“Well… It does look like you’ve finished your meal today. What else do you need to do other than finish your meal?”

Ryuji shrugged, looking back out the window, but the two people who were sitting out there had left. Maybe facility staff had gone out to get them, as well.

He sighed and turned back to the nurse.

“I guess nothing,” he muttered as he got up from his seat, collecting up his tray and trash. “Do I at least get extra time at dinner because this is cutting into my free time?”

The nurse smiled softly.

“We can work that out,” she said. “Work your hardest today, and I will personally see to it that you can have thirty minutes at dinner or before bed.”

“At dinner,” Ryuji said, dropping his trash in a bin and putting his tray in the collection spot as he walked past them. “I have something I want to do.” He paused, mulling over a thought for a moment, before he then asked, “Can I, uh… go outside tonight? I want to look at that water fountain. The one that doesn’t work.”

The nurse was quiet as she led Ryuji upstairs, but she had her pointer finger and thumb on her chin like she was thinking about everything he had just said and asked of her.

“I don’t see why not,” she finally said. “A bit of time outside might be good on your leg. I will talk to your doctor about it.”

Ryuji smiled warmly.

“Thank you,” he said. “I promise I’ll work as hard as I can t‘night.”

The nurse smiled back, glancing over her shoulder for a moment. Her smile seemed to get wider when she saw that Ryuji was doing the same thing.

“I know you will,” she said, looking forward once more. “You always do.”

Especially tonight…

…because Ryuji was going to find out who the people outside at the fountain were. They had piqued his interest _way_ too much not to find out.

There was something familiar about that hoodie and blazer.


	2. Chapter 2

> _ I feel you crumble in my arms down to your heart of stone _
> 
> _ You bled my dry just like the tears you never show _
> 
> _ Why don’t you take what you want from me? _
> 
> _ Take what you need from me _
> 
> _ Take what you want and go _
> 
> _ Why don’t you take what you want from me? _
> 
> _ Take what you need from me _
> 
> _ Take what you want and go _

Somewhere in Kichijōji, Akechi woke up.

Without even opening his eyes, the former Detective Prince (“former” because with Shido’s change of heart, it was  _ very unlikely _ he would have to do any further television appearances or anymore jobs solving cases he created) knew exactly where he was: He was just outside Penguin Sniper, most likely in the nearby alley; most likely in the alley off to the left of the pool and darts club he knew all too well.

The sound of pool tables (not that pool tables made sounds); of sticks hitting balls… made it extremely obvious.

Akechi still hadn’t opened his eyes.

They felt too heavy to open, if he were being honest, as if someone had weighed down his eyelids with fifteen kilogram (or more) weights. 

No matter how hard he tried to, he couldn’t open his eyes.

Maybe he would just sleep for a little bit longer; maybe he would just rest for a few minutes longer. At least until he could open his eyes and get back to his apartment. It wasn’t like it was that far away, based on where he deduced he was, so a few more minutes of sleep wouldn’t be the end of the world in the grand scheme of things, even if he was getting those few more minutes in an alley. 

He would get back to his apartment sooner or later, after all.

—

Somewhere mostly quiet, Akechi woke up.

This time, unlike in the alley in Kichijōji, he managed to peel open his eyes and look around, but when he actually did look around the unfamiliar (and also extremely cold) room, there wasn’t anything interesting or significant to see in the white and barren room.

Nothing, that was, except for a framed photo on his bedside table that included himself on the left, Akira Kurusu on the right, and Ryuji Sakamoto in the middle. It had been taken with his phone in Akira’s bedroom right after Ryuji had rushed in and saved himself and Akira in Takuto Maruki’s palace.

The first thing he did was have it printed and framed, and up until he was looking at it here, in this strange room, the picture had sat on his coffee table in his living room.

_ I don’t think so! _

Akechi remembered the details behind the photo because it was the one and only time he had ever kissed Ryuji, even if it was only on the cheek, as the picture indicated. Akira was kissing Ryuji’s other cheek, while Ryuji had the brightest grin and the darkest blush — and sometimes Akechi wondered if Akira ever gotten the chance to kiss Ryuji more than just on the cheek; wondered if Ryuji knew that  _ he  _ had kissed Akira on the cheek, as well, once; wondered if—

Where was he?

It dawned on Akechi he was somewhere he didn’t recognize and that wigged him out because if he didn’t recognize where he was, then how was his  _ stuff  _ here? How was he looking at a picture from his apartment, but in a place he couldn’t— in a place he didn’t understand?

“Akechi-san?” said a soft voice from some other area of the room.

Probably the door, if he had to guess.

Knitting his brows, he took a moment to collect himself before sitting up in bed, letting himself look around the plain, white room before looking at the woman in the doorway. She was a small woman wearing a white outfit, her almost  _ piercing  _ brown eyes looking back at him, filled with a warmth and happiness he had seen only one other time in a person.

It made him feel at ease.

It was a strange little room, Akechi decided to himself as he eyed the woman in the doorway, realizing there was something very familiar about her that he couldn’t quite place.

There was something familiar about all of this, if he was being honest.

The only other items in the room beside the picture on his bed stand were a few posters from his favorite television serieses, the most important of which being Featherman (he always needed his Featherman Red and Featherman Yellow posters by his bed to feel comfortable wherever he was staying), but there were also posters from Pokémon and other animes that he liked.

Apparently, wherever this… wherever  _ he _ currently was, Akechi was unabashed with his interests, and the woman in the doorway seemed to have nothing to say on it, either. He didn’t recall ever hanging up all these posters, but he was pleased to see them surround him nonetheless.

It felt like home.

“Mid-morning therapy begins soon,” said the woman in the doorway, when Akechi gave her his full, undivided attention. “You… Ah, you slept through breakfast again.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want some help getting dressed?”

“No.” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his answer, and then added, “No, thanks. I can do it,” if only to be polite to her, because she didn’t deserve someone being rude just for doing her job.

After all, it wasn’t this woman’s fault he was so confused… or here… most likely.

“Do you remember where the group therapy room is, Akechi-san?” she asked gently, as if tone was saying it was alright if he didn’t remember. “I can wait outside if you need someone to escort you there.”

Akechi didn’t answer that question.

For a few moments, he didn’t say anything at all. He just sat in bed, staring at his hands that seemed smaller than usual, then looking up at the woman in white, who was much, much shorter than he was.

Everything felt so incredibly  _ small. _

“How did I get here?”

The nurse gave Akechi a soft and sad smile, but a knowing one all the same. It was like she had expected him to ask how he got here; had expected him to not understand or know where he was.

How many times had he asked?

Her answer was clearly locked and loaded, ready to go. Rehearsed. She rattled off her response like she had spent time in the mirror perfecting it, like when he used to stand in the mirror perfecting his jokes for interviews.

Except her response was less cringy.

_ This is where your justice ends. _

“You checked yourself in, Akechi-san,” she said, moving over to the small dresser in the corner of the room, rummaging through it for what looked to be some of his clothing. His blue jeans, his shirt… his underwear. 

Apparently she was going to help him get dressed, anyway. 

“In February, actually,” she continued. “You checked yourself in of your own accord. You’ve been here for three months. You have definitely made a lot of improvements, though. You aren’t as angry anymore! You don’t blame yourself for things you had no control over as much anymore. We just need to work on that memory of yours, but it’ll happen in time.”

_ Oh. _

Right.

Akechi remembered  _ perfectly _ now.

“Now—!”

The nurse turned around with a set of clothing in hand. She held it out to Akechi and he reached out to take it. It was a very mechanical transaction, as though it had been done dozens of times before. 

“—let’s get you to that therapy session!”

—

> _ I need some more reasons to live out this evening _
> 
> _ I been sipping forever and just taking whatever _
> 
> _ Hoping, thinking whenever you’ll be back around _
> 
> _ Let’s go out ways, whichever _
> 
> _ You say how is however long _
> 
> _ ‘Cause you know I’ll never be alone _
> 
> _ Love _

“Akechi-san, do you think you can go sweep the walkway leading up to the doors?” said a woman about his same height. She spoke to him while standing to his right, because he was left handed. 

“I would do it myself, but I have a few more things to do in the office before I take my lunch break and I would prefer to _ not  _ be late again. You can take your lunch break after you finish sweeping all those cherry blossoms, alright?”

Akechi thought about saying he liked them where they were, and didn’t want to sweep them away, because they made the facility look happier than it was, but he ultimately decided against saying anything other than “Yes, ma’am” while bowing respectfully. 

Arguing with someone who was graciously giving him money (albeit not a lot, but it was enough to put a savings away) and continued work experience while he was bettering himself, somehow, didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Thank you, Akechi-san.”

Bowing once more, Akechi took his leave and headed outside with the push broom that had been  _ pushed _ into his hands.

At least he didn’t have to get rid of them entirely, he told himself, as he started to clear the walkway of the cherry blossoms. He wasn’t given a dustpan, so clearly all he had to do was push them into the grass, which he could live with.

—

About ten minutes into doing his last job of the afternoon, a person standing around at the other end of the courtyard caught Akechi’s attention.

The mystery person was wearing what appeared to be a hoodie and a blazer at the same time — and if this weren’t a psych ward/physical therapy center, he would be more confused/concerned about it, but anything out of the ordinary here could be explained away as a self-soothing technique or a minor quirk. Sometimes as something a bit worse, but—

Akechi dropped his broom.

“Kurusu?!” he said a little bit too loudly as the person in the hoodie turned to face Akechi, his piercing grey eyes recognizable anytime and anywhere.

Combined with the bit of mop that was hair spilling out from under the hood, it was undeniable who he was standing mere meters from; it was undeniable that—

It was undeniable because the person he had just shouted out, Akira Kurusu, was all but running at high speed in his direction, both of his arms outstretched. Without the broom in hand, he could do that as well, and even moved toward the hug until both of them were wrapped in holds that could heal even the most broken of people.

“Akechi! I can’t believe it’s you! You cut your hair!” A hand went up to it, snaking into the shortened locks… 

…and, indeed, at some point, apparently, Akechi had gotten a haircut. He couldn’t seem to recall when or why, but he had seen if in the mirror during a bathroom break earlier that morning, and after examining it for a little bit, he decided he didn’t dislike it.

The hug went on for as long as it could until Akira pulled away, assumingly because he was hot in all that clothing and the warmth of another person probably wasn’t helping at all.

“I missed you so much, Goro.”

Akechi’s heart skipped a beat. No one had called him that in a long time, it felt. It was nice to hear it again.

Especially from Akira.

Akechi idly wondered what it would sound like coming from Ryuji, letting his mind wander back to the phone on his nightstand for just a moment.

“I missed you, too.”

“I thought you were dead?”

Akechi didn’t answer that. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how, because he didn’t know how he  _ wasn’t  _ dead and the last thing he wanted to do was wrap Akira in problems even his therapists were trying to sort out—

“What are you doing here?”

Akira bit his lip — then drew in a deep breath and let it out as a slow sigh, closing his eyes.

“I have PTSD, I guess,” he murmured. “Or… PTSD-like symptoms, because it hasn’t been enough time to diagnose me with that, but… I had a bunch of panic attacks and night terrors when I got home. My parents didn’t know what else to do, so they sent me back to Tokyo and got me in here. I guess they figured it would help because… I dunno. It has been helping. I’m still a criminal in my hometown, all the looks and murmuring from people who used to be my friends… It didn't help. It just made me feel worse. I dunno,” he sighed. “I wasn’t thriving there. I don’t know if I’m thriving here. I’ve only been in here for a couple of weeks.”

Akechi immediately wrapped Akira in his arms as soon as he finished explaining his story. It absolutely broke his heart, knowing how much he was struggling, and he could only hope that the hug offered some help.

It seemed to be, if the fact Akira sank into it meant anything. Akechi would be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact he could be a source of comfort.

“Let’s sit down for a second.”

Akira didn’t make a move to do that for a moment, opting to stay wrapped up in the hug Akechi was openly giving. Although he didn’t mind, he really did want to sit down — and after a few minutes, he urged him to do just that, telling him there was plenty of time for hugging later if Akira so desired to do so. He just didn’t want to hug for too long in a public space like this.

Akira seemed understanding of that.

They sat on the edge of the fountain.

“I missed the cherry blossoms. They don’t have cherry blossom trees in my hometown and… They’re so pretty in Tokyo.” 

Akira said that last comment rather idly, looking at the cherry blossoms still on the ground, then paused for a few moments, probably to think.

(Akira seemed to be moving mentally slower, but that made sense, if that was the case.)

In the time Akira spent thinking, Akechi decided that was it, then. He refused to keep sweeping away the cherry blossoms. If Akira liked them, then they were staying; if Akira liked them, then other people probably liked them, as well. Professionalism be damned. Akechi couldn’t take away something that brought a patient here some happiness.

If Akira liked them, then—

“I’m so happy you’re alright,” Akira said, messing with his right finger.

It was an idle tick, but it caught Akechi’s attention, nonetheless, though he didn’t say anything about it. He knew well enough to never point out things done absently, unless they were dangerous.

There had clearly been a ring on Akira’s finger, based on how his finger  _ looked. _ A ring he was no longer wearing, of course, and wouldn’t for…

Well, Akechi was going to be here for a long time. With his memory issues, he was going to be here for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Akira would be here, as well; how long he would be without the ring he was clearly missing.

Rehab center policy said no jewelry of any kind while admitted into the center, so it made sense that—

“I was so worried about you after Maruki’s palace.” Akira paused for another moment. “I’ve missed the hell out of everyone, but I came straight here, so I haven’t gotten to see anyone I want to. Especially Ryuji and you. I—“

Akechi nodded slightly.

“I know,” he said gently, looking at his friend — lover? partner? best friend — in the eye. “Me, too.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Akira decided to look up and wipe away some of the tears that collected all over his face, especially on his cheeks. Akechi had to resist the urge to reach out and wipe them away for him; had to resist the urge to get rid of the stains.

“Hey… I-Is that Ryuji?”

_ Ryuji?! _

Akechi looked in the direction that Akira was pointing, toward the big windows that looked into the cafeteria that he knew all too well.

Just near the fifth panel, sure enough, a boy with short blond hair dressed in a pair of jeans and a red tee-shirt sat at one of the cafeteria tables. If it wasn’t Ryuji he was looking at, Akechi had won the lottery for lookalikes with this one.

Akira got up suddenly, holding out a hand to Akechi, practically vibrating as he stood there and bounced. Akechi couldn’t help but look at the hand being offered to him with slight confusion, like he didn’t know what a hand was; like he didn’t know why Akira Kurusu of all people wanted him to get up right now.

Mostly, he just confused about how fast things were moving; how quickly topics and ideas and actions had moved from one thing to the next — and now they were going to run through the rehab center on a wild goose chase for someone who may or may not be Ryuji.

(It was definitely Ryuji.)

“Let’s go find out.”

…and Akechi wouldn’t want it any other way.

Akechi took Akira’s hand and let himself be hauled up, then let himself be whisked away to the building on a wild goose chase led by the  _ second _ wildest person he’d ever met to find the  _ first. _

He really couldn’t say he disliked this. 


End file.
